by Rowan Bishop
“You’re kind. You’re caring. Raemus, I’ve seen it.”
Raemus acknowledged it with a little nod. “Takes a lot of work, given what I’ve got to deal with. But still… not human.”
Akyra turned back to Raemus’ profile, happy he wasn’t injured trying to save her today. “I wish we could stay together tonight. Like lovers should.”
It made no sense to suggest it. Both of them needed to be with their teams and their duties. And of course, everyone simply slept in their vehicle seats. There was no place for them to be together.
Akyra reached over and laid her hand on his. He turned to her, his smile distant, his dark eyes lost in too many thoughts.
She withdrew her hand and tucked it under her leg.
Then, as a sorry consolation, Akyra leaned upward, kissing his cheek. “Thank you for helping my team.”
Raemus returned the kiss, pushing his lips to the top of her head. He put an arm around her, and—as the last sliver of the sun slipped below the green mountainous horizon—squeezed her shoulders.
Chapter Fifteen
They were abominations to The Church long before they met. Consider the following two facts:
1. Maternal traits were dangerous to the established theocracy, hence the prolonged breeding programs crafted to weed out those genes.
2. Titan Class soldiers were engineered for loyalty—but specifically without the troublesome remnants of love and compassion.
Therefore, neither was supposed to exist.
Dissecting the statistical probability that they met, fell in love, and subsequently mixed their genetic inheritance is a puzzle best left to quantum computations far beyond our current technology.
The Scientific Histories Vol IV, by Mal Ar-Malen
The Almighty brought us together. It’s as simple as that.
My Journey, by our Saintly Mother Akyra Kolach Roux
The convoy was two days into the lush region of Pergamon, pushing deeper into the dark forests where huge, towering fern-like plants imported over a millennia ago in late stages of terraforming, covered the land. And here, in the dense green underbrush, appearing as though conjured from the low hanging mist that plagued the convoy’s visibility, was Ishkari Abbey.
Ishkari Abbey consisted of a dozen or so stone buildings. Abandoned hundreds of years before, their ornate stone decorations had not all stood the test of time, but their new residents had, with a patience and tenacity, rebuilt what they could. In the distant past, the structures represented the might of another culture long overrun, long before the fern forest had been planted, and now showed signs of centuries-long disuse. In the center of the abbey complex, stood the tallest building, the chapel for the newest residents, the long rejected but ever faithful Order of Penury.
Most people at the abbey were tending their labors when the convoy arrived. But they immediately dropped what they were doing to come see the visitors.
As they dismounted their vehicles, Raemus assured Akyra and her team that they would be safe here. He’d been here before, and the inhabitants of the abbey were kind. “Perhaps a little eccentric,” he added, “but I trust them.”
What immediately drew Akyra’s attention was the orphanage, one of the mid-sized stone buildings in the shadow of the chapel, and she began moving toward it as soon as she removed her helmet.
Raemus wanted to introduce her to the abbey’s leaders, but instead watched her curiously leaving the rest of the convoy to explore on her own. He stood to the side to watch her without interruption.
The local men and women, wearing the simple, humble garments of The Order, approached Akino and Tomohiko, who’d stepped from their vehicles and enthusiastically called out greetings. The many people of the abbey welcomed them reverently, for they knew the Titans of Thunder Company. And appreciated their faith and valor.
After a few moments, some of the women pointed to Akyra, who walked alone toward the orphanage, arousing plenty of curiosity. They whispered to Akino, “Is she the one?”
Tomohiko answered first, proudly. “Yes, she’s the one. They shared Shu’ri in the desert.”
“Yes,” the women said, slowly turning to watch Akyra’s progress. “We heard.”
Raemus and a handful of his team had been here before, so they knew the few signs to look for, confirming there were no hostiles in the area. Once they were sure the area was secure, he signaled to his team and the Banshee squad leaders, Rayeley and Emilia, to dismount their vehicles and begin stretching their legs.
The entire convoy had been basically living in their body armor for two weeks, and it was a continual point of conversation that once they reached the abbey, they’d all strip naked together and make one enormous red and green bonfire pyre.
“But our armor isn’t flammable,” Polli had pointed out.
To which a recovering Tomohiko replied, “Don’t worry, little human. We can make anything burn. Promise.”
Though the residents of Abbey Ishkari knew Raemus and trusted him in their midsts, the huge, black armored troop carriers—with red, warlike Banshee faces painted on the front hoods—were obviously unnerving. This was a community unused to strange visitors.
But Raemus’ presence settled any uneasiness they felt.
Akyra’s voice came into Raemus’ headset. She was forty meters away, now standing in front of the orphanage’s tall double doors. She’d turned to face him while she spoke to him, even at a distance. “Where do the children come from? There doesn't seem to be any towns or settlements nearby.”
“Couldn't tell you,” Raemus replied into his mic. “I’m afraid children aren’t my usual area of expertise.”
Akira looked at the building thoughtfully. “How could children end up in a place like this so far away from anything?”
“I don't know. We’ll be here for quite a while. Have a look.”
Akyra said nothing else, lost in a bewildering amount of thoughts, staring at this building where children grew up without the any comforts of childhood. Same as her.
Raemus considered that such places surely caused her pain. He watched her slowly walk to the bottom of the stairs of the orphanage, taking hold of the railing, looking upward to its imposing doors, lost in thought.
Some of the women began to shuffle towards Akyra, who was clueless that she was becoming the the center of everyone’s curiosity.
She was on the second step and motionless again when one of the women raised a thin finger to touch the back of her arm. If not for Raemus' enhanced hearing, he would not have heard the woman's scratchy voice say to Akyra, “Mother?”
Akyra turned abruptly, and when she saw the ten hooded women behind her, her eyes growing wide, she sucked a deep breath. It was the first time Raemus had seen panic on Akyra’s face.
“I… I am no mother.” She almost fell backwards as she tried to move up a few steps to get away. “I am an officer.”
The woman slowly lowered her hand. “You have the look of a mother. Why are you here?”
“My name is Akyra. I am with the Titans.” Raemus could hear the strain and confusion in her voice. “We are on an expeditionary mission through this area. We don't mean to intrude.”
“You are not intruding, mother.”
Akyra looked the woman up and down, noting she was at least three times her own age. “I said, I am no mother.”
Hesitantly, Akyra tapped the officer’s insignia on her chest plate, signifying church law, that being an officer and being a breeder could not happen to the same person.
The old woman raised a hand and pointed to the door. “Please go. There are children here who could use the look of a mother.”
Akyra said nothing else, turning and tightening her grip on the handrail, pulling herself up the stairs. The first steps required a great amount of exertion.
She felt like she’d been kicked in the gut. Raemus could see it as she stumbled slightly at the top of the stairs.
Akino and Levi stepped up to Raemus, now watching Akyra, too. Akino
asked, “What’s our lady doing?”
Raemus didn't answer but, in anxiety for Akyra, cut across the courtyard to the base of the stairs, pushing through the old women and marching up to Akyra's side.
The interior of the orphanage was notably quiet for the amount of children there, a place of incredible gloominess.
Akyra gasped. “Oh no. Not the children.”
Raemus noted the wireframe beds, the thin mattresses, and the general lack of proper furnishings for humans so young. For someone who didn't know much about children, even Raemus knew that these young humans were not having an easy time of it, no matter how hard the residents of the abbey tried to offer comforts.
There were about seventy-five children inside. Many of them lay on their beds, shoved together, though it was the middle of the day.
Akyra said to Raemus, “It’s like they’re in a hospital… just waiting to die.”
Raemus couldn’t hide his own sadness at the sight. “I know The Order works hard to save the children. But they receive no help.”
“Where do they come from?”
“Perhaps from all over? Orphanages aren’t so rare on Minora.” Raemus raised his hand to Akyra’s shoulder but stopped himself from touching her. “We don't need to see more. We don't need to stay in here digging up memories.”
Akyra answered too quickly. “No, I'm fine. My Academy was a nice place. Most of us were orphans, but the place was well-off. It was nothing like… this. This is something entirely different.”
By now many of the children noticed the two armored soldiers, one woman in red and a giant man in green—though some recognized Raemus—walking down the middle of their long bedchamber, their heavy boots echoing through the hall. Some managed to pull themselves to their feet drift toward Raemus and Akyra.
When Akyra noticed some of the children were moving toward them, she stopped in her tracks. Finally, she smiled at the children, but it didn't look natural. Raemus noticed she was forcing herself to smile.
“Hello,” she said to the first young boy who came closest, a young boy of eight or so, with a shaven head. He didn’t reply but remained expressionless. She kneeled down next to him. “Hello, my name is Akyra. What's your name?”
The child grunted a few times, making an indiscernible gesture to her head. Akyra turn to another child that was moving closer now. She tried again, “Hello, what's your name?”
She was met again with the same mute reaction. Something low and guttural came from the child, but no words. Akyra stood up, turning slightly toward Raemus.
Raemus said, “Perhaps they don't know our language.”
By then, most of the children moved toward them, and Akyra became visibly uneasy.
Raemus turned back to see the way they’d come, where several of the old women were standing in the doorway, watching and whispering. Truth was, Raemus was beginning to feel uneasy, too. He had his own memories of suffering as a child, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know these.
“We can come back another time.”
Akyra slowly shook her head. “Let's keep moving.” She sidestepped through the huddled children toward another door at the end of the long bedchamber.
The rest of the children didn’t make a sound.
The door led to a small courtyard where more children played quietly.
Akyra sat down in her armor on the dirty, sandy ground. “Hello. My name is Akyra. Can any of you tell me your names?”
They reached out curiously to touch her armor. One even reached up and touched Akyra’s braid as if it were something mysterious and offplanet. Perhaps not even human. The girl who touched Akyra’s hair, her own head shaven like the rest, was the first child to smile.
“What are you playing here?” Akyra could barely speak, her throat constricting from the morbid sadness of the place.
Another child—a boy or girl, Akyra couldn’t tell—held out a small wooden doll whose parts no longer moved.
Akyra took the doll.
And began to sob.
The children watched her cry dispassionately, as if they’d expected her to do so all along. One of the children sitting across from Akyra in the dirt, reached out a hand and touched Akyra’s knee.
Akyra tried to catch her breath. “I’m sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't be crying.” She handed the wooden doll back to the child and tried getting to her feet. It took three attempts until Raemus reached a hand down to help.
She sniffed heavily, wiped her eyes, tried clearing her throat, and whispered to Raemus in the voice as calm as possible, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged us in here.”
Raemus put his big, comforting arm around her, gently encouraging her to the door. “It’s okay. But maybe we should go now.”
Akyra nodded, still failing to gain control over her emotions.
The women at the door stepped aside, continuing to eye Akyra curiously. As they passed through them, another one of the old women tried placing a hand on Akyra's cheek, whispering in a hoarse voice, “Mother.”
Akyra shrugged her off brusquely. For the sake of the children, she whispered her reply. “I am no one's mother!” she hissed. “Stop saying that!”
Raemus quickly moved them outside and down the stairs. “What happened in there? Are you okay?”
Akyra didn't say anything. She sucked in some breath, and shook her head, walking away from Raemus. By the time they got back to convoy, Akyra went straight into her vehicle.
Raemus took Akyra’s hand as he sat on the seat opposite her. He wanted to care for her. He wanted her to know that whatever terrible disappointment she experienced in her past, they were safe from all those forces now. And he loved her. “Akyra?”
She looked at him with red, teary eyes. “Why… mother?”
Raemus put a hand upon her armored knee. Why? Because you are the true motherly type all the people of this planet fill their dreams with, he thought. Because you are affectionate, caring, and nurturing. Because places like this would do anything to have a heart such as yours to assuage their daily fears. That’s why!
But Raemus didn’t speak his thoughts. “I don’t know, Akyra.”
For a moment, the sounds of various Banshees accessing storage panels alongside the troop carrier rattled through the cabin.
Raemus reached up and lifted Akyra’s small chin, but she sniffed loudly, looking away.
“Okay, Akyra. Let me tell you a little more of what I know. Imagine you live in a place like this, far away from anything—or anyone that cares about you. You hear through various planetary insurgency groups that a band of Titans has committed apostasy and are now moving through the countryside. You hear that maybe, just maybe, they share your concerns about the oppressive conditions The Church has left them to wallow in for the last few centuries. Then, you hear the Titan commander has committed Shu’ri with a purebred human—who is also moving through the countryside with him, visiting towns and blessing the people and…”
Akyra cut him off. “Searching for a stolen Bio-Teck cube so she can keep her job.”
“They don’t know that, Akyra. All they know is what their parents believed—and all their ancestors before them believed.”
“Which is?”
“That a direct descendant from the original Sol system will bear the children of their salvation. And those children will be fathered by the servant of The Almighty.”
“The Almighty?”
Raemus raised a hand and held it up.
“Now you’re the hands of The Almighty? I’m not interested in fulfilling anyone’s prophecy, Raemus.”
“The mythos of Titans goes a lot deeper than ‘foot soldier’ in these kind of places. I’m not just talking about Minora, Akyra. Folktales and nighttime stories all around the galaxy make us more than we really are. And now…”
“And now?”
“Well, it would seem they’re making you into more, too.”
But maybe it’s not so far out of the question, Raemus thought to himself.
> She was still visibly shaken by whatever slew of emotions assailed her at the sight of so many sad, malnourished children. “I signed up to the Security Operations Division,” she said, “because no one wanted me as a mother.” She rubbed her forehead, sat upright, and finally looked Raemus in the eye. “They said I didn’t have what it took to breed.”
Raemus leaned in and kissed her tenderly. “Maybe… maybe they saw something in your genes that scared them. Maybe you do have what it takes… maybe a whole lot more.”
Chapter Sixteen
A body burns to ashes in minutes. A prophecy endures history’s everlasting violence.
My Journey, by our Saintly Mother Akyra Kolach Roux
Raemus had done his best to comfort Akyra. But the incident at the orphanage dug too deep. She needed time alone, to gather her thoughts, to focus on her primary mission of recovering her contract and saving her tail.
Despite her biggest complaint being that she didn’t get enough time with Raemus, now she needed to be far away from him.
And away those crazy ideas about prophecies and fairytales.
She still had a job to do.
She took a small hike alone around the outer perimeter. The forest was dense and beautiful. It was so different than the cold, dry desert they had been in for the last week that she couldn't believe she was on the same planet.
This gave her a chance to examine more closely the style and architecture of the buildings as she passed them, increasingly rundown the farther she strolled from the abbey. Raemus told her not to go too far into the forest. And there were plenty of buildings that were unsafe. If she wasn't being escorted by a local or even himself, it was important to stay away from the older abandoned buildings. That was fine by her. She had no desire to end this already tenuous mission under a few metric tons of collapsed rubble.